APH: The Continents
by Intangible.Insanity
Summary: They were the parents to the nations. When the Great War broke out, they fought. After the war, they started disappearing one by one. As the Second World War stirrs ruffled feathers, festering old but unhealed wounds. They enroll into the army, fighting for and against their children. The Allies triumph and this time, they never returned. OCcontinents
1. Vulpine Charms

_**12/07/28: Edited.**_

Hilo. Hopefully, people won't hate this. I apologize if any of the continents don't match the actual thing.

The main character is Canada, well, because I can't write other nations b/c I don't know much about them. This will invole a lot of nations though and I don't know where this is headed.

Well, happy reading.

**Disclaimer:** I don't own anything.

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><p><strong>hETALIA: axIS POweRS - The cOnTINents<strong>

A pale woman sighed and brushed her silver hair out of her eyes. A copper haired man sat beside her, watching the scene before them with bemusement and interest. They sat in a long mahogany table in a large room, the walls were painted a light, airy blue and there were large windows displaying tall skyscrapers. Flags of all the countries and nations hung from the ceiling and across the room was a small table of refreshments. Occupying the room with them were four other people.

"Pig's arse! Why don't you confront your kid about it then?" an angry shout came from a young woman with bright ginger hair and equally vivid green eyes.

"Well, I would if he wasn't so freakin' stubborn!" a teenager with sandy blonde hair retorted.

Aside from the silver haired woman, the copper haired man and the feuding pair were a platinum-blonde man with steely eyes and another man with dark chocolate skin and mocha eyes. The blonde was leaning against the wall by the doorframe, whereas the dark man sat opposite of the auburn haired man and pale haired woman. The ginger haired woman and the teen stood at the front of the mahogany table.

"Or is it your too scared? I bet he doesn't even know who you are!" the ginger haired woman accused the blonde.

He flinched as if she had stuck him physically. The red haired woman glared harshly at him as if daring him to oppose her. The boy turned away from her, avoiding her heated glare, she opened her mouth to snap out another accusation.

"Enough," the pale haired man by the door spoke firmly.

"This is pointless, quit fighting. The war was bound to happen anyway," the dark skinned man reasoned, trying to soothe both of their flaring tempers.

"Marina?" the pale skinned woman rose to her feet and gently placed her hand on the ginger haired woman's shoulder. The younger woman nodded, her eyes fixated on the teenager in a heated glare. The silver haired woman then stepped over to the sandy blonde boy.

"Cody? Are you alright?" The boy nodded, his bangs shadowing his eyes, feeling the ginger haired woman's eyes boring into his head.

"Antarctica, Australia, North America, sit back down," the pale blonde man ordered.

The sandy blonde teen, North America, let the silver haired woman, Antarctica, lead him to a seat beside her and the copper haired man. The ginger haired woman, Australia, growled irritably under her breath and reluctantly sat down beside the chocolate skinned man, who flashed her a pleasant smile.

The tall platinum blonde man stood at the front of the room and resumed their meeting.

...

Matthew Williams, Canada pressed his face into the soft fur of his ever constant companion, Kumakuchi or what it Kumamaru?

He sat sullenly in his chair, waiting for the world meeting to end. His older twin brother, Alfred F. Jones, America had dragged him here, unwillingly of course. He orginally wanted to spend the day back in Canada, what's the point of going to the meeting if no one remembers you?

Immediately upon arriving at the UN building, Alfred abandoned him for Arthur, England and Francis, France. Like usual he was unnoticed by other nations, only the Nordics and Hong Kong had greeted him with waves, smiles and looks of approval. Beside Canada sat Prussia, who was staring off into space with Gilbird nestled into his silver hair.

Matthew sighed, hoping the meeting would end soon.

...

Gilbert Beilschmidt or Prussia yawned, it was really boring at world meetings.

Some other countries were surprized how the former nation got in there. It wasn't a miracle that he got here in the first place. He did it all the time, although sometimes he would wait at home for his brother, Ludwig, Germany.

He let out another yawn when the whole room burst into chaos. England and France started to bicker, Russia scaring the daylights out of the Baltics, North Italy blabbering away about pasta. Some other nations ridiculing America for his outrageous ideas, China and Taiwan were arguing, Belarus was sharpening her knife, muttering about her marriage and Romano was headbutting and yelling at Spain. Sweden intimidating other nations, South Korea harassing several others, Cuba was smoking away and the Netherlands was smoking something that he was sure was not allowed here.

Prussia glanced at Matthew, the blonde's face was buried into the fur of his bear. He could feel Gilbird shift slightly in his hair, Gilbert was surprized that the little yellow bird didn't wake up from all that noise. He peered at the front of the room, searching for Germany.

Germany stood amidst the calamity, a look of irritation upon his face. It was only the first half hour of the world meeting and everything had already become undone.

"Enough!" Germany's voice boomed, silencing the whole room. "We will take a break and come back in an hour."

All the nations got up, muttering among themselves and started to file out of the room.

He turned to Canada, only to find the blonde missing. "Grrr..." he growled to himself as he abruptly stood up in his chair and stalked after the trailing nations. "You can never find him when you need 'im."

Gilbert stared at all the nations lingering in the hall outside the conference room, practically the whole world was there. He scanned the crowd for someone who he could get along with. "This is so unawesome," he muttered when he could only see Hungary. Prussia approached her warily, careful for any frying pan swinging his way.

"Hey, Elizaveta!" he called as he neared the brunette.

Her head swung around, brown locks flying. "Oh, Gilbert," she said flatly when she saw it was only him.

He scowled. "What do you mean, 'oh, Gilbert'? I'm not just 'Gilbert', I'm the fucking awesome vital-regions-stealing Kingdom of fuckin' Prussia!" the albino mimicked her voice in a squeaky, high-pitched manner, momentarily forgetting the danger he was in.

She glared at him, but then she sharply turned to her other side, ignoring him.

"H-hey! Don't ignore me!" Prussia yelped, struggling to get her focus.

After several failed attempts, he turned towards France, who was laughing with Spain around the corner.

"Oi, Franny, Toni!" he waved to them, walking away from the Hungarian nation.

...

Elizaveta shuffled around, looking for her ex-husband, Roderich. Never had Germany ended a meeting so early, it was just the half hour into the world meeting. Perhaps she should look for her friends? She wove past Sweden and Finland, spotting a sickly Japan being fussed over by a troubled Italy and a frowning Germany.

No. She shook her head as if chastising herself. Japan is sick, she couldn't bother him now.

"Hey, Elizaveta!"

A deep, rough, rusty voice calls from behind her.

She whirls around, knowing it wasn't Austria, still it could've been one of her or his friends. Disappointment flooded her features as it was only Prussia. His hair messy with his yellow chick sleeping in the tangles, his red eyes darting around as he rocked back and forth on the balls of his feet. Expecting someone, like herself. She didn't have time for him though, for whatever he wanted.

"Oh, Gilbert," Hungary muttered, disheartened.

Prussia glowered at her, his eyebrows furrowing indignantly. "What do you mean, 'oh, Gilbert'? I'm not just 'Gilbert', I'm the fucking awesome vital-regions-stealing Kingdom of fuckin' Prussia!"

Hungary's green eyes narrowed dangerously, fingers twitching. Before she could summon her cookware, a tug on the skirt of her dress caught her attention. Elizaveta stiffened, tuning out Gilbert who was trying to talk to her. The ex-nation was gone, disappearing around the corner of the hallway. He was shouting out to his usual group of friends, the perverted France and the ever optimistic Spain aka the 'Bad Touch Trio' or 'Bad Friends Trio'.

She blinked, glad that he wasn't bothering her. Now, what was tugging as her skirt? Looking down...

...to her surprise and delight. A cute ball of fur was what greeted her sight.

It was a small grayish-white fox with small, dainty paws and a fluffly, bushy tail. The fox gazed up at her with enormous brown eyes, it appeared to be pouting at her. Letting out a loud squeal, she immediately picked it up. Elizaveta didn't know why the fox was such a strange colour, but one thing she did know that it was cute!

"Gilbert! Look! Look! Look!" she cried, raising her arms out to show him the little creature.

Prussia turned from France and Spain. "Was?"

A loud chirp sounded from the chick in his hair. It flapped it's wings eagerly, tiny clawed feet tugging gently on silver strands of hair.

He stared at the fox and the fox stared back. His red eyes were wide and so were the fox's. Gilbert's face was frozen with shock, relief and anger? It seemed like they were holding a staring contest.

"Gilbert?" Hungary asked hesitantly, earthy green eyes darting between the two.

Her voice seemed to snap the albino back from his shock. A word slipped from his lips, it was barely audible. The word though, she though she had misheard over the insistent peeps and chirps. But then he repeated it again, louder, firmer.

_"Mutti."_

...

Canada let out a breath of relief as he bolted out of the room. The air in there was suffocating, all the voices made his head pound. He stopped at the end of the hallway, kneeling down, he pressed his head into Kumachu's fur.

"Who?" the small bear groaned.

He grit his teeth. Ignore it, ignore it, ignore it. He didn't need his own companion to torment him now.

Silent footsteps echoed loudly, it stopped when it got near him. Looking up through his blonde hair, he saw a pair of brown boots. He follow to look up, smiling softly as he stared as a familiar face.

"Loung, you came," he breathed shallowly, afraid that it he inhaled any louder that the nation would disappear.

After all, this just could be an illusion that his brain has conjured up.

Blank dark brown eyes gazed fondly down at the wheezing blonde. Their face was stoic and their small build was covered in a burgundy duangua, limp hands hung to their side. Choppy, brown, black hair was cut just up to the jaw.

"Yes," Hong Kong said monotonously.

They both stayed there in silence, a comfortable silence.

Soon it was shattered, the whole world was milling around aimlessly in the hallways. Talking and socializing, yelling and screaming. It was like the conference room but much better.

Matthew sullenly watched the nations, slight envy stabbing his heart. He waved it away though, he was content with what he had.

He watched as Prussia strode by, calling out to Hungary. A secretive smile bloomed upon his pale, chapped lips. The albino was looking for him. He observed as the two interacted, before he felt something was pawing at his red tie.

Kumaliko stared up at Canada with bored eyes. "Hungry. Want home."

The sitting Canadian sighed. "Not now, the meeting isn't over. You can eat when we have lunch."

"Still hungry," the bear grumbled as it settled down.

He gently scratched it's ear. "I know, eh," Matthew said softly.

A small hand tapped his shoulder.

"Hmm..?"

Hong Kong pointed to Hungary's hands. His brown eyes were slightly wide, his hand was trembling as he pointed his index finger. Canada squinted and slowly rose to his feet, about head taller than the Asian. He couldn't believe it, was it really...?

Mouth agape, he turned to his brother. "Is that who I think it is or am I really losing it?"

"Unless we are bothcrazy, then no," Loung muttered, hands gripping his wide sleeves tightly, knuckles white.

In the European nation's hands was a little Arctic fox. A little fox that they knew well.

Out of the corner of his eyes, he saw Gilbert gazing at the same animal. Gilbird was tweeting like crazy when he muttered one word:

_"Mutti."_

They both turned back to each other, each murmuring a word they haven't said in years.

_"Maman."_

_"__Ma-Ma."_

Three different languages, same meaning.

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><p>What do you think of this?<p>

-Insanity


	2. Delicate Revelations & Maddening Rejoice

**_12/07/28: Edited._**

H-hi! Ha, here's the second chapter. Hope you enjoy it.

Today's my birthday and I decided to put this up instead of being lazy. Translations on the bottom and I apologize for any mistakes.

**Disclaimer: **I own nothing...

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><p><strong>hETALIA: axIS POweRS - The cOnTINents<strong>

"Dismissed!" a young ginger haired woman shouted, throwing her hands up in ire. "What are we, dogs?"

She was stalking down a hallway, grumbling unintelligibly with a tan young man walking in a lazy gait at her side. Following behind them were; a blonde teen about the same age as woman in front, a pale albino woman and a dark skinned man of African descent. The tanned man walked sluggishly, but still in pace with the storming red-head. He smiled lightly, flipping his brown and auburn highlighted hair out of his eyes.

"That's just how he is," he said airily, waving his hand in nonchalant manner.

She huffed, eye twitching and nostrils flaring slightly. "Well, he doesn't need to act all high and mighty all the time," she muttered. "And letting others take charge won't hurt either!"

"Let him stay on his high horse," the tanned man replied as she looked distractedly at her wristwatch, he raised an elegant eyebrow.

He gave her a playful look, his russet eyes amused. "Homesick already?"

The ginger glowered at him, "No, I just looove this place," she drawled sarcastically, exasperation and dislike clear.

The blonde teenager behind them glared at the ground, his hands curling into fists in his pockets. The silver haired woman sighed sympathetically and patted his head while the lumbering badger beside him pressed lightly against his clothed leg.

"Don't feel bad, she's just jealous that you're older than her, kijana mmoja," the eldest, dark-skinned male smiled from the other side of the pale woman.

"And more popular!" the auburn haired youth chirped.

The silence was painful and deafening, a dark and violent aura brewed like a foreboding storm. The teenager snapped her head towards him; her reddish-brown hair covered her eyes as she slowly raised her head. Her green eyes promised a slow and painful death, an inhuman growl ripped from her throat. The koala hanging from her right hip snarled angrily at him. Among themselves that was a bad sign, a bad omen.

"What did you say, _mate_?"

The tanned teen gulped, realizing his mistake. "Mi dios! Merda, merda, merda! Eu vou morrer!" he whispered frantically as he backed away from ginger haired teen. His hazel brown eyes were wide and awake, completely different from his earlier relaxed, languish attitude.

"South, don't just stand there and talk to yourself! RUN!" the blonde teen who was sulking earlier shouted, worry evident for his other half.

"Thanks for the advice, North!" he cried, starting to run for his life.

"How dare you compare me to that, that, THAT!" the auburn haired teenager started after him, looking like an angry grizzly bear or a certain nation's koala. "You bloody bludger! This ought to teach ya not to mess with a Kiwi or an Aussie!"

Their footsteps echoed as profanities flew from their lips. Insults spewing back and forth. As well as pleas to stop and threats to maim, castrate and other grusome and obscene things that should really not be heard in the UN building.

The three stood in the middle of the hall. The remaining teenager, North, had picked up his badger and was wringing his hands nervously and feeling quite hurt whilist the silver-haired woman sighed and shook her head in such a manner like a mother watching her children bickering over something absurd.

"Poor guy," the dark skinned man commented idly, smiling suavely.

...

Hungary stared at Prussia as if he was crazy. She gave him an uneven look.

"M-mi a fene? What! Gilbert! What are you talking about?" she squawked in confusion, tightening her grasp on the little fox. Perhaps he was fading too fast...

Upon seeing no reaction, she took a deep breath. "Gilbert, this isn't funny! How could this cutie be your mother? It's not even possible!" Elizaveta cried, jerking the fox for emphasis. The European nation watched for something to happen, biting her lip nervously.

The albino's eyes remained glued onto the animal, his face was frozen with emotions but at the same time, it was emotionless. She did not understand how his face could remain like that. Gilbert's eyes were just like his face; his ruby red eyes were glassy and blank. On the other hand though; rage, sorrow, happiness, resentment danced beneath the impassiveness. Emotional and emotionless, together. Stoic and sentiment, all at once.

It was so strange, but then again, being in the presence of a supposed-to-be-dissolved nation was odd enough.

Hungary's loudness attracted the curiosity of many other nations. Shortly, the hall was quieter than before, only a faint humming came from nations that were to far away to notice.

"Bruder, what happened?"

Germany had stepped away from the clingy Italy and frail Japan. His blue eyes were soft, unlike his usually stern clear blue eyes as he reached out with a gentle hand. His brother has acted like this sometimes; he has been through a lot. He may be his idiotic older brother, but there were many things and many faces of his brother that he does not know about or has ever seen.

"Nichts," Prussia snapped. His voice only a harsh whisper, not even glancing at Ludwig. _'Nothing.'_

Germany looked hesitant as he placed his hand on Gilbert's shoulder tightly, his muscles tensing in case his brother recoils or attacks. "Bruder, please, what is wrong?" he murmured quietly. The ex-nation seemed to be deaf, blind and mute. He did not see the many nations or his brother, he did not respond, he did not hear the murmuring nations. Prussia remained fixed onto the fox and _only_ the fox.

"Why is it so important?" Silence met him. "Please, sagen Sie mir. Sag mir, was ist falsch," Ludwig pleaded, his usual serious face crumbling. _'Please, tell me. Tell me what is wrong.'_

The air was tense and smothering. A chill of frost descended over them.

"Yip!"

As if the soft bark triggered him, Prussia wildly lurched forward, hands flailing madly. It had set him of in frenzy of clawing, trying to grasp the white and silver fox. Upon instinct, Elizaveta shrunk back into the arms of whom she was originally waiting for. Looking up with the cute fox clutched to her chest, she breathed in a sigh of relief.

"Roderich."

"Yip!" a sharp yelp came from the small creature in her arms as it stared to squirm and scrabble.

"Elizaveta, what's wrong? Are you alright?" the Austrian asked softly, looking over her with concerned violet eyes.

"I-I'm fine. I just don't know what wrong," Hungary whispered, gesturing softly as Germany grabbed his brother by his arms, restraining him.

"Yip!" the furry fox wriggled against her grip. Little paws scratching at her arms, pleading and impatient, its henna eyes stared up into her warm green ones.

And upon a whim, she let it go.

She stood eyes wide, panic and alarm ripping through her body. "No!" Elizaveta gasped, trying to catch it. She berated herself for letting go as she watched it descend to the ground...

The creature miraculously spun in mid air, like a cat and landed on it feet with a light thud. Its silvery-gray head turned towards her, bared its teeth at them, and appeared to be grinning at her. Then it trotted up to Prussia, who had collapsed onto the floor and was muttering in garbled German.

"Nein! Mutti, lassen Sie mich nicht!" he whimpered, his face buried into his pale hands. "Bitte, ich würde alles tun!" _'No! Mutti, don't leave me! Please, I'd do anything!'_

When the little fox nudged him with its black nose, before it climbed into his lap, licking at his hands. Slowly, but surely, Prussia's incoherent mumbling ceased and he seemed to have broken out of his trance. He cradled the white fox to his chest, just like Hungary had done. His shoulders shook violently as he whispered almost hysterically, "Sie kam zurück! Sie kam zurück! Lass mich nicht. Nicht immer." _'You came back! You came back! Don't leave me! Don't ever.'_

Elizaveta's green eyes watered, leaning heavily against Roderich. She spent enough time around Gilbert and her ex-husband to understand what he said. Is this what he has been reduced to?

A low sound, a mix of a whine and a grunt emerged from his throat as he struggled to get up. Germany instantaneously was at the former nation's side, helping him up and getting him through the crowd.

The brothers left the flock of nations behind, most baffled and bewildered. Others, few others, secretly smiling under their uncaring and confused visages.

...

From his place behind all the other nations, Canada couldn't see much from behind the whole world, but he could hear the sharp barks of the fox and Prussia's rambling. Hong Kong had disappeared through the thick of the mass to get a better look, while he stayed behind, content at lingering in the back.

Suddenly, the crowd disburse slowly and wandered back into their own places outside the conference room. With his eyes stinging for an unknown reason, Matthew sighed dejectedly, slight depression settling but an invisible string tugged on his lips.

There was slight clawing of anxiety and worry inside of him, which made his shoulders tense up. Prussia seemed to react badly to the presence of...

A pawing at his sleeve caused him to look down at his arms as he once again sat down on the cool floor.

"What is it, Kumamoka? Are you still hungry?" the Canadian patted the bear's head.

A blink. "Was that Tiriganiaq?" the small bear inquired, tone flat.

Canada stared down at Kumama with surprise. "Um...Yeah, I think so, eh."

_Tiriganiaq..._ He hasn't heard that name in decades.

He lowered his mauve eyes to the floor, they felt like they were on fire.

Why appear now? Abandonment was so painful and harrowing. Why? Why show up now and rip open old wounds? Wounds that were left to bleed and were meticulously, painstakingly stitched back together with trembling hands. Feeling lost and broken, Matthew bit his lip and brought Kumakiwa closer to him. Despite the anguish and sorrow picking at him, a flood of capriciousness and joy welled up in his chest. Maybe...maybe she hasn't abandoned them.

"Don't keep your hopes up," he muttered, his usual soft voice barely audible.

However, how he felt and what came out of his mouth did not complement each other. Matthew didn't know why he was so...expectant. Perhaps it was that loving, warm and pleasantly cold presence near him. Or the appearance of that fox, maybe it was Gilbert's breakdown was what reassured him that she was here. That she was going to come back and he would feel loved again. Matthew wouldn't feel so alone, so abused, neglected and invisible.

_If_ she came back.

Without warning, a heavy weight settled onto his cheek, dampening his skin.

Dull amethyst eyes flickered up to the offending paw, his eyes had stopped burning fiercely. Shining, black eyes stared back with mild curiosity.

"Hey, you," Kumalooka paused for a brief moment as if contemplating what to say next. "Are you really that happy that Tiriganiaq is here? Because...you- you're eyes are leaking."

Canada's hand flew to his face, his fingers feeling the moistness. His eyes...burning...tears...he was crying. The northern nation blinked rapid, willing the droplets away. His fingers dug deeply into his forearm, slight anger flooding his veins. How pathetic, crying so easily, he really was too sensitive.

He smiled a shaky smile. "Y-yeah. I'm really ha-happy," Matthew gently pried the little paw off his face and adjusted Kumadi in his lap.

The undersized polar bear nodded but the doubtful look that he sent his master from his pointed muzzle proved that the bear knew more than that but decided not to voice it.

Matthew mentally sighed in relief that he was out of the hot spot. Although he wanted to be noticed, being deprived of attention had made him very nervous and shy in social situations. Even if it was the friend he had know his whole life.

The personification of Canada glanced around the hallway, observing other nations interact with one another. It was something he did regularly, it wasn't like there was anything else to do, talk or anything.

Ukraine pulled on Russia's sleeve, her benign blue-gray eyes bright and wistful. Ivan stared at his elder sister, his expression slightly dark and his usual childish smile fading. Belarus watched her siblings out of the corner of her eyes, her posture was defensive with her arms crossed over her chest as she leaned lightly against the wall.

His eyes shifted to the former Austro-Hungarian empire pair. Hungary was facing her ex-husband, her expression of heartbrokenness. Austria stared down at her, soft comforting words leaving his lips as she buried her face into his shoulder.

Beside them was his family. America, Alfred had a weirded out look on his face as he explained something in an exuberant manner, arms flying around nearly smacking a brooding England. Which prompted the thick-browed Brit to glower and tell the American off. France was hovering near by, laughing his obnoxious and self-proclaimed 'sexy' laugh.

"Ohonhonhonhon~"

Matthew's right eye twitched. He couldn't believe that the man was his Papa. But then again...He eyed the rest of his dysfunctional family.

Feeling a bubble of slight envy, he tore his eyes away from them. There was something wrong with his Papa's laugh, it sounded more faux and disheartened but France was trying to cover it up with a dimming bright plastered smile.

He tuned away from Francis' mirthless laughter.

South Korea was harassing China, Poland was gossiping with, well, more like to Lithuania while the rest of the Baltics were huddled into a corner. The country of passion, Spain was looking slightly down whereas Romano was scowling lightly at him and looking lost, Australia was glancing at the clock in the hallway anxiously, Egypt was nodding to something Turkey had said. Greece was dozing lightly in the corner with cats climbing all over him, Monaco sighed as she peered over to look at the nations from her book while Sealand was telling something very exciting to Finland and Sweden.

Canada closed his eyes, the feeling of loneliness settling at the pit of his stomach. His skin crawled, emptiness echoing through himself.

Endure it.

_Like you had for centuries_

...

Around the same time, somewhere inside the same UN building, a certain teenage blonde sighed and leaned down to pick his badger up. The black and white-striped animal stared up at him with irridesent amber eyes, wisdom and age reflected through it's orbs. Eyes upheld it's master's own, vibrant but dim turquoise drowning in warm and strong ochre.

"Kadee, should we look for South?" he croaked, his voice was vanishing again.

"Should we?" the albino woman queried, scanning the hallway for the auburn haired youth and the enraged ginger-head. She breathed a sigh and picked absent-mindedly at her long, snowy white scarf. The corner of her lips twitched upwards, a warm smile grew on her pale lips, her daughter...

The female badger in the boy's arms rumbled. "What about Tiriganiaq and Alexio?" she flexed her claws.

Her bright amber eyes remained staring up at her master. The blonde teased his bottom lip with his teeth, blue-green eyes flickering down. An odd, complex emotion well up in his chest, a heavy weight settled onto his heart. Depression seeped into his flesh, a yearning took hold of him.

The pale haired woman turned to face the black and white animal. "Did you see where they went?"

"Yes. Away from here," came the blunt reply.

"My, what a descriptive answer," the dark skinned man laughed quietly.

The albino woman smiled exasperatedly. "Well, we better start looking before they get into any trouble."

She shared a look with the older male. Crimson and umber exchanging unsaid words and secrecy. The blonde teenager glanced at them nervously, chewing his bottom lip. His badger, Kadee, scoffed under her breath, which came out more as a snuff. The woman sighed again and played with her long scarf, her visible red eye stared at it with nostalgia and fondness. The eldest male lowered his mocha eyes to the floor, a mysterious smile playing on his lips.

Out of the blue, a scream ripped through the hallway, coming from the other side of the building.

"I think we found them," the blonde stated tentatively, wincing at the high, shrill pitch.

The other male tilted his head to the side. "Who? Tiri and Alex or Adrian and Marina?"

"I'm putting my bet on Tiriganiaq and Alexio," the woman cut in. "Seems like they wandered into trouble."

The older man chuckled lightly, although there was no mirth in his voice. "I knew 'paper cannot wrap up a fire' for long."

"Quoting Kazuya, eh?" the albino woman gave a elaborate grin. "Then we better hurry, remember, 'a spark can start a fire that burns the entire prairie.'"

The youngest of the trio blinked his teal eyes in confusion.

"What's with all the weird sayings? C'mon, let's go!" he shouted, hurrying down the hall, badger in his arms. The woman walking in a light but brisk pace behind him while the man strolled leisurely behind them.

* * *

><p><span>Translations:<span>

**Kijana mmoja -** _(Swahili) _Young One

**Mi dios! -** _(Spanish) _My god!

**Merda, merda, merda! Eu vou morrer! - **_(Portugese) _Shit, shit, shit! I'm going to die!

**M-mi a fene? - **_(Hungarian) _W-what the hell? Lit. What the devil?

**Bruder** - _(German) _Brother

**Nichts -** _(German) _Nothing

**Sagen Sie mir. Sag mir, was ist falsch. -** _(German) _You tell me. Tell me what is wrong.

**Nein! Mutti, lassen Sie mich nicht! - **_(German) _No! Mother, do not leave me!

**Bitte, ich würde alles tun! - **_(German) _Please, I'd do anything!

**Sie kam zuruck! Sie kam zuruck! Lass mich nicht. Nicht immer. - **_(German) _You came back! You came back! Don't leave me! Don't ever.

Ehh...sorry for any translation mistakes. Damn Google...

-Insanity


	3. Bittersweet Semblance

Eh, guten tag?

I know it's been a while, I don't have an excuse for the long wait...I'm just a really inconsistent updater. I had this floating around on my laptop since March, but I didn't finish this until like...about mid-July. Très désolé, but I have one long ass chapter after this and another chapter!

I really have nothing else to say about this chapter, but the dialouge between Loung (Hong Kong) and Mei (Taiwan) was a bit, ah, shaky, I guess. And it was angsty on Mattie's (Canada) part, yet, angst is my best genre. I almost forgot about Gilbird in Germany's part but I quickly added that back in. I'm not the expert on the the (East) Asian family but I tried my best. Sorry if I anyone seems OOC or if I cut off someone from the Asian family and for any mistakes I have.

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Hetalia.

* * *

><p><strong>hETALIA: axIS POweRS - The cOnTINents<strong>

"Jia Loung! Wait up!"

The said person calmly stopped at the corner and turned around, his face was blank. Loung waited patiently for them to catch up, the person was garbed in a pale cherry blossom pink qipao with simple golden trim and a long flowing white skirt. They had long brown hair with cerise-coloured flowers woven in the locks and large brown eyes. Taiwan. Mei.

Loung, better know to the world as Hong Kong, felt a small pang of irritation at his sister. He really needed to get back to Matthew, he was unravelling again like a thread in Russia's scarf. This emotional instability of his brother was alarming and unquestionably unhealthy for him. Hong Kong did not have time for his sister's words nor the tolerance for any other of their siblings with their odd quirks, petty spats and plain obnoxiousness.

"Where are you heading off to? You walk really fast!" Taiwan asked as she neared him.

He silently raised an eyebrow, his hand fisting in the material of his duangua. "Why are you curious? Shouldn't you be with Kiku or Dai Go?"

Mei flushed, reminiscent of her outfit and looked down at her feet. "I-well...It's just that Kiku-kun is sick and I don't want to bother him...and Yong Soo is being annoying as usual and harassing Da Ge. I-I just wanted to get something off my chest without seeming stupid or anything. And I..." she babbled nervously before she finally concluded, "...you were the best person I could talk to." Taiwan watched him with semi-pleading eyes, like a child hoping to buy something but could not voice it.

Hong Kong sighed inaudibly, his dark eyes scanning down the hall and locating a Chinese man in red being groped by a certain, hyperactive Korean.

"Is there any other reason that you stopped me for?" Loung said quite directly, Mei brushed it off as she was used to his bluntness.

"Well, did you see Prussia break down? I wonder why did he do that...Do you think he's dying?" Mei murmured tentatively, her umber eyes flickering up with wonderment and slight fear before she turned her head around quickly to make sure that no one was eavesdropping.

Loung's dark tawny eyes narrowed at the inquisition and the impact it would have on Matthew if it really did happen. "I doubt it. He's too lively and attached to this world to die," he replied, his voice was monotone, none of his real disquiet seeping through. "I suppose it could be is a lapse from being dissolved," Hong Kong muttered, reassuring his sister and himself.

Taiwan left out a repressed sigh of relief, which caused Hong Kong to stare at her keenly. "Do you..."

Mei got the hint and burst into a blushing and sputtering mess, waving her arms in a wild, furious 'no' gesture. "No way! Aiyah! Jia Loung, what in the world made you think that?" Her cheeks were flaming with embarrassment, but he knew she never possibly like him.

He sighed again at her response and thought about their family. It was so crowded and animated, it seemed warm but in reality, it was very different from how it is viewed by the outsiders. To them it was a large and close family of the Asian nations. However, if you went past the veil, you could see the isolation of the family. Loung was somewhat distant from his family and could clearly see why from the problems between them and where they arise.

There were isolations and wounds between them that run akin to deeply gouged scars. China and Japan were unspoken but Loung could see and read it like a book between them. Taiwan and her people trying to separate from China and Korea's childish, lonely attempts to make China notice and love him. Hong Kong is reluctant to interfere with them, but he is not afraid to step in because he cherishes family as much as they do, even though he could be distant. It was because of British colonial rule, he guessed.

Dai Go, China, had lost the war to England and he was ceded to the European nation. And with that he gained another family for the next century and a half, he met interesting characters from around the world and gained a brother whom he truly treasured and loved, Canada and him somehow connected and here they are today. Despite not being in the Commonwealth, he was often invited to their meetings by Matthew. Matthew meant a lot to him, especially in World War II, he defended him and tried so hard. The blood and tears. He could not let him down.

Slipping from his thoughts, Jia Loung waited a bit impatiently for Mei to finish hindering him.

"Are you finished now?" he asked clearly having something much important to do than to stay and chat with his sister.

"Uh...yes," Mei answered, quite slowly he might add.

He nodded. "Good. Bye," Jia Loung said and walked away in his normal brisk pace.

...

Mei watched her brother leave with confound eyes and exhaled, her shoulders lowered and her arms limp at her side. She turned to return back to China and Korea, when something slunk past her. Taiwan let out an ear-piercing shriek when she felt something cold, slick and rough coil tightly around her leg from under her skirt. She tried kicking her leg to get it off but it only squeezed and tensed around her leg more.

She let out another fearful screech when she saw the tip of a scaly, light green and dark blotchy tail curled around her foot. It was on her whole left leg, she could feel it was smooth but scabby, a snake? It was really heavy and constricting, she felt her heartbeat quickening and her breathing turning into indistinct gasps.

Taiwan staggered backwards violently at her weight on her leg, almost tumbling onto the ground when a pair of strong hands caught her. She trembled as she managed to cry out, "Get that thing off me!"

"Aiyah! Mei-Mei, stay still!" she heard the familiar voice of China by her ear, she realised that Da Ge was the one supporting her. Taiwan leaned stiffly against her older brother, she has not been ever showing any affection to her older brother ever since she and her people wanted to be independent. She whimpered quietly when she felt her leg going numb and the vice grip on her leg become even tighter.

"Calm down, Mei," came the monotonous encouragement from Hong Kong. She craned her head from the junction of Yao's shoulder and neck to glance at the impassive face of Loung. His rather thick eyebrows were drawn together with concern, a frown hung on his lips as he gripped her upper arm in a comforting gesture. Another hand, calloused and warm enveloped her own.

Taiwan slowly turned her head the other way and squinted past Yao's long brown hair to see Vietnam's worried but determined face. She said nothing but squeezed her hand. Her golden brown eyes were focused on her face, a kind and persevering look in the amber pigments.

"You have nothing to worry about!" South Korea declared boisterously in an promising manner from somewhere below. Taiwan peered down to see the Korean crouching at her feet, he glanced and beamed at her.

"Didn't you know? Snake-wrangling was created in Korea! Da-ze~" he informed her as he gingerly wrapped his hand around a coil of the large snake. "Waah! I don't think I've ever seen such a huge snake before!" Yong Soo mumbled, delicately prying the tail from her ankle.

Taiwan felt the sudden prickling in her eyes, her vision distorted with the blur of tears. She couldn't even feel the snake around her leg anymore, she almost forgot about it. Mei didn't know why she felt so emotional, she just did. Her family came to her aid, when no others did. They are all concerned about her, even when she was being aggravating and disdainful to them.

Rough but gentle fingers brushed her tears away. "Aiyah, Mei-Mei, why are you crying? There's nothing to be scared about. We'll have it off you in no time," Yao chided her in Mandarin.

"Ya-D-da Ge...xiè xiè..." she whispered hoarsely, feeling overwhelmingly confused yet very comforted by her family.

...

There was a bitter smile, riddled with tears and such a sweet melancholy.

He was jealous, jealous, very jealous. It was not the petty, spiteful or a small fictitious need or want for something else that someone else already has. No, he was ashamed, greatly, to admit his jealously aloud or though. It was degrading, to want something someone has, it made him sound ungrateful, pathetic to himself. And as if he wasn't enough pitiful already.

Envy was a noxious emotion, he did not want it, prodding his heart with it's wicked, hooked claw. The little hisses of resentment that prickled his cold, which made it shiver with unease around him. His jealousy was not frivolous, it was a deep-rooted resentment that resided abysmally in his being, it had been nurtured by his so-called family and fellow nations. It has been healed via scar tissue in the form of arctic ice and fine frost, torn open and stitched back together again and again, many times over.

What was he so envious about? He mused, damp eyes skimming the Asian nations assembled in the hall, other nations preened with interest of what had caused Taiwan such grief. They did not mind or perhaps not even aware of the scene they have caused. He caught glimpses of Taiwan's flailing pink dress, China's familiar red, Loung's small stature, Vietnam's hat and South Korea's kind reassurance. He even saw Japan make his way through the crowd, sickly and wraithlike, he stood quietly at the front of the crowd with the aid of North Italy.

He was envious of their family, he guess. He saw the love and care between them, regardless of how they turned out, it was obvious of how much China did influence and nurtured them as the best elder brother for them. _Much unlike his own._ He was not that close to the Asian nations but he got along rather well with Loung and Yong Soo. They were not necessarily a happy family, every nation has had carnage before, even from the youngest nation, no matter how young they are, there will always be a predecessor that died for them and an older nation to shape them with either an iron fist in a velvet glove or a callous hand with a collar in the other. However, there was light and love, even those alone could chase the night away.

He closed his eyes, feeling them burn. He didn't need them though, feeling happiness for others was fine. He was alright being alone though, besides he Kuma with him anyway.

He wandered away from the gathered nations, he couldn't breath. He ghosted past Russia and his sisters, who were gathered around a portion of the wall, claiming it theirs as the other nations stayed at least a good five feet radius from them. From the corner of his eye, he thought he saw Belarus slightly tilt her head in his direction as he passed. Her dark blue eyes gleamed with a recognition, her incline of her head either a reference to him in the Slavic siblings' colloquy or perhaps, he secretly hoped, as a subtle acknowledgement.

Without himself knowing, a small smile snuck past his lips as he continued his way back to his spot on the floor. Spotting his empty space, he sighed and leaned against the wall and slid down, not minding his suit, and sliding onto the floor. Lowering his head, he played with Kumajiji's white ears, the little white bear had drifted into sleep while he was observing the Asian family.

A shadow fell over him and a person slid down next to him. He glanced to the side, offering them a soft smile, his eyes scanning their face for any tangible emotions. "Matthew," Hong Kong muttered. "Sorry for leaving you earlier, I wanted to see what Mei was screaming about."

The blonde nation nodded sympathetically. "Y-yeah, I heard her. Was it a snake?"

"Yes, a rather big one. It was wrapped around Mei's leg, an anaconda I presume," Hong Kong mused, his thick eyebrows furrowing in memory of the snake.

Canada blinked, his hand still to the crown of Kuma's head. "And is she alright?"

"Yes, Yong Soo got it off her with the help of Vietnam. She was a bit frighten but Dai Go is with her right now." Jia Loung nodded in the direction of South Korea who had the large snake coiled around his shoulders; China, who was helping Taiwan walk to a chair that Vietnam dragged out of the conference room.

Canada resume petting Kuma's head, a smile flitting. "I'm glad she's alright," he hummed, looking down at his bear. His hair dropping into his glasses and obscuring his vision from Jia Loung.

Hong Kong nodded, narrowing his dark eyes the slightest. The words were warm with genuine relief, however, there was a hidden, empty sound to it. He let it go though, the snake and fox coming to mind. "Do you not find it odd that there are snakes and foxes in the building?" he inquired, folding his arms into the wide sleeves of his burgundy duangua.

Matthew looked up, his slim hands tucking some flaxen strands behind his ear. "Eh, yeah, I do. That kind of snake should be in South America and that fox that Hungary had should be in the Arctic." His chapped lips pulled into a small frown as he stared down at his hands.

Jia Loung tapped his brother's shoulder, "I thought that fox was..." He hushed when Matthew made a silencing motion. Canada put a pale finger up on his own lips, he smiled sadly behind his finger with his elusive cornflower blue eyes gentle and tender. Hong Kong watched as the blonde shook his head, putting his hand down.

"We'll have to wait to speak about this," Matthew whispered, his blue-mauve eyes darting to the corner part of the hall.

A noise of protest rose from Jia Loung's throat but it stayed trapped as Matthew once again put his finger on his own lips, curving his lips behind his finger. The small island administration area subtly turned his head, glancing with his dark tawny eyes. Taking the portion of the hall were the infamous Russia, well-endowed Ukraine and the frosty Belarus. They were taking a large portion of the hallway, Russia's dark, inauspicious aura filling it and making every sane nation avoid the area. Well, minus Hong Kong and Canada, as well as France, England and America.

Ukraine bit her bottom lip, her gray-blue eyes glassy but alert as she stood in front of Russia. Her body was position slightly angled, a space open for Canada and Hong Kong to be openly in the sibling's view and vice versa. Russia leaned almost casually against the wall, his sharp mauve eyes narrowed into a darken claret. The pale scarf draped imperially around his neck and shoulders, the northern nation's mouth twisted into a darkened simpering version of his typical frightening childish smile. The youngest of the three, Belarus, positioned herself about an arm's length away from the elder siblings, leaning against the wall. Her arm's crossed, a rather cold, surly expression framed by her platinum hair. Openly, the more intimidating of the two stared at Canada and Hong Kong, whereas Ukraine was more concerned over their blatant conversing and staring.

Hong Kong tensed as Russia pushed himself off the wall and was making his way to them, Belarus shadowing him behind his scarf. Swiftly, Ukraine nervously followed, grasping Belarus' dress sleeve.

"Mat-" Hong Kong for the third time was silence, Canada putting a finger to his lips again. "Matthew, it's no time to quiet me."

Canada simpered softly behind his finger. "Let them."

The younger man stoically narrowed his eyes at him, trying to gauge what the other nation was getting to. Fox and the snake, they were quite vaguely familiar...a flash of gleaming teeth in a wolfish grin and a slither of dark mottled green scales. A large shadow fell over them, cutting him from his analytic musings.

"Matvey, Hong Kong," Russia greeted, towering above them with his sisters behind him.

...

Germany frowned when he heard a high-pitched scream from outside the room. He glanced at the door that separated him and his bruder from the rest of the world's judging eyes.

After the incident in the hallway, he had pulled his bruder into one of the various lounges for break times. They were usually locked for a short meeting like the one they were going to have this morning; Ludwig had fished out the keys and quickly herded Gilbert into a random lounge. He set the trembling, distorted nation, _former_, he mentally added, onto a couch.

Then, he pulled a chair next to the couch and tried to pry his bruder's fingers from the little limp fox, which was trapped between Prussia's chest and his strangling grip. He was somewhat worried that his bruder might crush the fox and then the consequences with his hysteric bruder.

He wasn't aware at first but then when his bruder started to tremble and clutched his arm in a vice grip in anxiety as they travelled through the hall of whispering and staring nations, he realised it was a recreation of the assembly that called and decided his bruder's death. The sharpened pointed gazes and subtle jeers and whispers as they officially pronounced the dissolution of Prussia.

_"Bruder! Please, I won't hurt it! I'll put it right next to you! Just let go before _you _hurt it!" _He had shouted in frustration, the brusque German echoed in the room.

Bruder had looked at him with those red eyes of his, looking at him with such hurt and turmoil...it make Ludwig feel mortified and useless, all over again. _"Westen, p-promise? You can't hurt her, I-I-I c-can't...ever..." _He choked out, a strange wheezing, rattling in his throat.

The tall blonde nodded, gently tugging his bruder's hands. The little fox's ear twitched as the pale hands fell limp and onto Gilbert's lap as he curled into a protective ball, his breathing heavy and the rattling continuous. Once in the younger man's hands, it opened an intelligent henna eye, regarding Ludwig with a shifty look in it's gaze before there was flash of recollection and it opened both eyes to observe him lucidly. It's snowy snout parted into a vulpine grin, tiny sharp canine teeth flashed at it seemed to smile at him.

Ludwig analyzed it with his ice blue eyes but quickly looked away, something in those intelligent eyes were unnerving, especially that grin as it stared at him with those eyes while baring it's teeth. Shaking his head, he set the silvery-white fox on the coffee table in front of the couch.

"Stay there." Germany pointed his finger at it to get his point across, although feeling quite foolish but it was to reassure the owner of the pair of feverish red eyes that peered from behind pale, shaking hands. He also wanted to refrain the fox from eating Gilbird, who had quieted down and was sleeping a tangled nest of his bruder's hair with it's small claws gripping tight onto silver strands.

The fox licked it's lips, either from the thought of eating Gilbird or something else, and seemed to nod, nonchalantly grooming itself. Germany sighed, that fox was as eccentric as his brother, that grin was the animal equivalent of his bruder's maniacal grin when he got a bad, 'awesome' idea. He shrugged of his blazer and covered his bruder with it, trying to ease the tremors that ran through the albino man's body.

His bruder clutched it close to him, his breathing easing and slowing into a comfortable pattern. The tall man sat down in the chair beside the couch, putting a hand to his bruder's forehead, frowning as it was heated and damp.

"Osten..." Germany muttered, withdrawing his hand and running the other through his blonde locks, slicking them back.

"Yip." A light yelp drew the German's attention to the fox, it leaned on the edge of the coffee table with it's snout sniffing Gilbert tentatively. "Yip." It snapped it's jaws shut and curled upon itself, tiny shivers racking it's body. Subconsciously, Ludwig reached out with his arm and started to stroke the little fox's head to it's back.

The fox blinked at the contact and rose to it's four paws and grinned again at him, the red in it's henna eyes seemed to be accentuated as it put it's small white paw on his hand. Ludwig's eyebrows furrowed at the bemusement of the little silver-gray fox. A little flicker in his mind, faded and distant images akin to that from old cinematic monochromatic film.

There was a snowy paw on a hand, much like right now, but the hand was much smaller and unmarred, not callous like his or bore the scars of hardship. That image waned into his bruder, dressed so proudly in his Seven Years War uniform, staring down with a feral-like but affectionate and maniacal smirking grin. Then it morphed into his bruder kneeling with his silver hair streaked faint crimson, bandages wound around his neck and arms, a long healing cut on the side of his pale face. Prussia's uniform coat was torn and tattered at the ends, cuts from enemy swords in the material. Bruder held bicorne held to his chest, the once vibrant red rose was withered, falling apart. Bruder held his arms open, a gentler version of his earlier smile.

There was a tingling feeling as the image raced forward and into those strong arms, the picture disintegrating as he hugged his bruder, the silver hair tickling his face and the leathery bicorne crumbling in his arms as he heard his own voice scream his bruder's name.

* * *

><p>Ma, I'm watching the US women's volleyball team versus the South Korean team...oh, who to root for. Well, I'm rooting for all nations and Canada in particular! Gooo, Mattie!<p>

For Vietnam, I was hoping to come up with a name for her. There were a lot of names floating around, I could've asked my father but that would've been awkward...so, if you have a name for Vietnam, please message me, da?

On the other hand, there are going to be multiple point of views, not nessisarily for one person. Like I have Matthew and Jia Loung as one or they can be separate, I have Germany and Prussia too as well as the Continents. The next perspective that is going to show up is my favourite three siblings: Russia, Belarus and Ukraine.

-insanity


	4. Chasing Converging Wintered Frost

I honestly don't know where this is going anymore. It's been a while. Seemed to have lost steam for writing right now and this was sitting completed since last year, along with another finished chapter. Just trying to get this crap out there 'cause I worked hard on this crappy chapter, its predecessor I still have but left incomplete because I didn't like how Belarus and Russia were interacting. The longest chapter, product of pain and headaches.

_Just so you know, this will be left incomplete due to lost in interest and crap. And because I suck._

Hopefully someone out there will read this. I apologize if any wording is weird or if there is any out of character-ness in here. Always imagined that Belarus could be scary (in another means) towards Russia too, she's a strong female character! I love the Slavic siblings, so here they are...don't take my head off! -hides behind Germany-

**Disclaimed: **I own nothing 'cause I'm lazy and suck at life.

* * *

><p><strong>hETALIA: axIS POweRS - The cOnTINents<strong>

iv. Chasing Converging Wintered Frost

"This is completely ludicrous," the platinum-haired Belarusian woman ground out. Her sharpened indigo blue eyes regarding Ukraine and Russia with a faint condescension and dourness. Her defensively crossed arms and leaning against the wall was a detached, distant figure from their impromptu meeting in the hallway.

Ukraine deflated at the look, "Natalya, can't we just all get along?" There was slight beseeching tone in the elder woman's voice.

"Hmph." Belarus glowered at them disdainfully as she gave them a dismissive sidelong glance, looking away to the side of the hallway at the crowd of nations near the end of the hall, gathering around the East Asian family.

Ukraine stared at her younger sister's elegant profile with dismay; she wrung her hands nervously as she dared to glance at Russia. He was slumped unceremoniously against the same wall as Natalya. The ends of his long tan trench coat nearly brushed the ground; the long knitted scarf she gave him all those years ago was draped imperially around his neck and shoulder. Ivan's pale hair framed his pallid face and darkening mauve eyes, his lips pulled into a light, childish smile that clashed with his ominous aura.

Russia smiled, "Everybody can get along as long as everybody becomes one with Russia, da?" the pale-haired man chuckled humourlessly, his mauve eyes steadily moved from the ground to Ukraine, then to Belarus and back to Ukraine. "Syestra, what do you think?" he murmured to Ukraine, who was lost in thought, staring at the ground with a wistful expression.

"Ah! Well...erm...Vanya, I think...that would be great..." Yekaterina fiddled nervously with her barrettes and headband, "But...doesn't everybody have their own houses and homes to go back to?"

The taller nation's childishly chilling smile waxed before falling into a sad not-quite smile but not a frown either. "Syestra, would you and Natalya leave me too?" Ivan analyzed her with his dark eyes, something forbidding glittering in those orbs.

Yekaterina softened, her gray-blue eyes were indecisive as she shifted uneasily. Vanya was her brother, she loved him and Natalya very much, that was the truth. She loved them from the very beginning when she met Vanya and Natalya, time has moved on however. Over the years, she has felt them drift farther and farther away from her.

"I...don't know Vanya, I don't know." Katyusha flashed her younger siblings some of the backbone that they thought was seemingly nonexistent. She frowned as Ivan's face went from darkening with anger to smoothing out into an impassive, stoic veneer. "...But, I would like you to stay at mine, for a while anyway." Katyusha invited, a gentle tone slipping into the hardened, rough voice.

A good-natured scoff escaped from Belarus. "Syestra, I would, after we find the strings attached to that fox," she muttered in sotto voce.

"What are we going to do?" Katyusha whispered hoarsely, her heart longed it ache at the thought of that little fox that Prussia had fussed over earlier.

Russia murmured serenely. "Da, what are we going to do? That was our Tiriganiaq, da?"

"...I-I don't know, Vanya." She hummed apologetically, feeling her heart tear at that placid façade of her Vanya.

"No. How can you be certain?" Their younger sibling's voice cut through, her voice was as cold as General Winter's frigid gales. Natalya had closed her eyes, arms tightening around herself as she wrapped them around her stomach. "Of that is not some other animal that a nation had brought to the meeting?"

"And how would you know that is or is not our fox?" The Russian countered, the light tone maintained but she could hear the frost hissing in his voice.

"I don't. I wouldn't foolishly rush headlong like an idiot thinking that animal is your's." Natalya's tone was clipped and callous, leaving her lips as she refused to look at them. Her emotionless fine features turning into resentful, incredulous frown with her thin eyebrows furrowing the slightest.

Katyusha bit her bottom lip, watching mutely as the tension between the two Slavic nations rose. They were at a lost...Tears stinging in the corner of her eyes as she lowered her head to hide them. She just did not understand what was happening any more, what was the world coming to? What was she suppose to feel? Enthralled and overjoyed? Then why did she feel like her world was tearing itself apart? She honestly felt a void, her heart hurt so much...what if Natalya is right? Maybe they were long dead but they were just being stupid and refusing to realise the truth. After decades of clinging onto the fleeting hope, she could never imagine that she might just be foolishly lying to herself, to Vanya...

"V-Vanya, what if Natalya is r-right?" she rasped, feeling warm tears trickling down her cheeks, unnoticed by her younger siblings.

The tall Russian man stared at his syestra with narrowed claret eyes, a slight look of horror crossing with his pale features. "Nyet! Nyet! Syestra, she's wrong!" He reached out sweep her flaxen hair out of her eyes, holding her shoulder. "She's wrong," Ivan repeated, his face clouded into a soft, tender expression. His gloved fingers brushing her tears away as she breathed shallowly, more tears trickling.

"I-I just..." Katyusha choked, fisting her hands in her hair. "I-I don't k-know what to believe anymore, maybe we're being stupid...maybe Natalya's r-right!" Ukraine cried, tugging harshly until her scalp seared with pain. Russia struggled to get a hold on her, pulling her hands forcefully from her head, pale blonde strands falling from her slender fingers. A whimpering sob tore from her throat, it was too hard to breathe, to hear, to think, to function. Russia reached out to place his arm around his elder sister's shoulder and pulled her close to him, she buried her face into his pale scarf, sobbing quietly into the knitted material. He smoothed his hand over the back of Katyusha's wheaten hair and down to the nape of her neck.

Instead of walking over there to comfort her deteriorating syestra, Belarus stood stock-still with her arms tightening around herself, sharp nails digging into the material of her dress. Eyes closed, her seemingly tranquil exterior was pensive as she listened to the pealing cries not like that of a nocturne to her.

Why did she not run up? She wanted to, but she did not. It was because what the reason was for her to? Natalya was not the best sister in whole world, possibly the worst, the Belarusian woman contemplated. She also knew that somewhere deep in that small frozen— _figurative_ she reminded herself— heart of her own was a spot for her syestra.

Certainly, the lachrymose of her syestra was disconcerting, yes, but within the pealing sobs, she heard the unburdened voice of the same woman... No, girl-woman who sacrificed her blankets for her and Vanya during the bitter winter, the same person who gave the warmest spot at the hearth to them. The girl-woman who starved, smiling despite the hunger clawing at her stomach as she watched her younger siblings ate.

Natalya hoped— yes, hoped, even a harsh person like herself hoped, that in those despairing moments, in those pealing cries that her syestra would realise the truth and free herself from the burden she had unknowingly bound herself to. It was cruel, it was heartbreaking. Then, though, her syestra would not have to bear the throbbing wound anymore and only a scar, albeit a large one, Vanya and her would support her syestra through it. She will take better care of her syestra this time.

"Syestra," Russia muttered into his elder sister's hair. He, himself, was confused; his rational self was already swept up with the concerns of his own people and nation. Whereas the more sentimental part of him was like that child that his syestra raised, dancing in the sunlit sparkling snow with wildflowers woven in his hair, urging and hoping that all these years that they were alive and breathing somewhere in the world.

However, seeing his syestra crumble was pulling at those detached heartstrings of his. Making his heart pained, making it want to fall out of his chest cavity again. Adamantly though, he refused to acknowledge Belarus' theory or even her opinion in the matter, it was utterly foolish. Ivan knew that they had to be alive somewhere, somehow. They had to, he thought, running his gloved hand through his syestra's short hair.

Ukraine sniffled, she found that it was almost easy to breathe again and despite the exhaustion, emotional and physical, she managed to pull away from her younger brother's embrace. "T-thank you, Vanya."

"Da, no problem," the northern nation muttered, fingering the damp wool of his long scarf. Yekaterina noticed this action and became flustered, worrying over the scarf.

"Oh, Vanya! I ruined your scarf!" She fussed over him, tears gathering in her eyes.

He shook his head at her. "Syestra, it's okay, I'm not upset. You shouldn't be crying over such small things, it's okay." _Because it's you, no one else can do the same things as you._

"A-ah," the Ukrainian woman smiled despite herself, "...Vanya, do you think that was it?" She glanced longingly down the corridor in which Germany, Prussia and the fox has disappeared. Belarus opened a deep blue eye and followed her gaze, listening intently on the short conversation between the elder siblings.

"Da." "No."

Blinking in confusion, Katyusha looked between Ivan and Natalya. "Excuse me? Ahh...Natalya, why don't you go first?"

Belarus turned herself, still leaning, to face the elder nations with her shoulder pressed against the wall in a short graceful flicking motion of the layered white and dark blue skirts of her dress. "No, I do not agree. For the last decades every since the Second World War, every arctic fox you two have seen, you elude yourselves into thinking that it is Tiriganiaq but it is not." Her tone was impersonal as her position, a good few feet away from them, seemed to be not even apart of their conversation.

Katyusha flinched as the words seemed to harm her like Natalya's knife. Ivan simply flicked one end of his scarf over his shoulder and leaned back comfortably against the wall, as if Natalya was not even speaking.

"You...you don't mean that, Natalya," whispered Ukraine, taking a step towards her. However, Russia's hand clamped on her shoulder and restrained her from approaching Belarus.

There was a ghost of a derisive, feral simper playing on his lips. "**Byelorussia**, if Prussia fussed over that fox, do you not think it is _our_ fox?" He incline his head to look at Natalya, who returned his answer with a blank face and cold, cutting, piercing dark blue eyes at the title he used.

"Prussia has always been unstable after his dissolution, it would not be surprising if he mistook it for _your_ fox."

"Nyet, that recognition in his voice and eyes are not delirious assumptions. Prussia is a proud creature, he would not grovel for some random animal unless he was sure that it was _our_ fox."

"So you say, however, you cannot deny that he has never quite been the same as the past has he? Even the outside nations outside of Germany can tell, that little scene just now is a true look into the decaying mentality of the once proud Prussia. In addition to that, who can deny that Prussia was always a hooligan?"

"Ah, da, Prussia was a hooligan in his golden days. Hungry for battle, yes, but he was never truly mentally insane."

"He was the most attached to the continents, they, having practically rearing him from his existence along side Germania. His impression of them, of her, are the most vivid of all the other nations. What do you call that? Good memory? Desperate? It would be absolutely instinctive of him to have that fox, not only because he thinks it's _your _fox. **Rus**. Why do you think?"

"..."

"It is because of his grievance and love for the people who raised him that it automatically clicks in his decaying head that he must have that fox, the fox that coincidentally appeared during a world meeting. A fox, an arctic fox, appearing at a UN building and during a world conference too? The chances in his mind of that fox being _his_ are undoubtedly vast as an ocean in his eyes."

"Natalya, P-prussia was very unhappy and unstable but he hasn't shown any signs of it...his memory is the best among us nations, especially of the continents." Katyusha timidly interrupted, Vanya has grown silent, which was not a very comforting fact to her.

The platinum blonde released an inaudible, almost exasperated and slight amused sigh of disdain and faint mockery. "To say that a nation, former or not, is not unstable emotionally or mentally is a complete lie. Syestra, every nation has experienced war or conflict. Not one part of the whole world has not spilled blood. From the youngest and newest nations, was there not a predecessor before them who died? The oldest nations, blood they had not spilled? The trauma of one's children dying and one's self at war is not an everyday thing, even the strongest will crack...the weakest culled. Many things happen in a nation, how bloody and distressing depends on their history."

She murmured the last part with a grim frown, turning with her back to the wall. Russia remained mute, he seemed to taken an interest in glaring mildly at the floor whereas Ukraine flitted in between her beloved siblings in just about an anguished manner. The air around them was riddled with the dark, oppressing aura of Russia, the stone-cold apathy of the refuting Belarus and the despairing hopelessness that crippled the kind and placid Ukraine.

"B-but, Natalya..." Katyusha whimpered, how could her sister say such horrible things? Then again, they were the truth. Bluntly, harshly, truthfully.

There was a pause. "Syestra, you are not young. If they wanted to reunite with you, they would have already." There was no ice in her words this time, faltering at her fragile syestra's confusion and distress but they were still as firm as before.

"Yes...but, maybe...they have had a hardship or some problem that had prevented them from doing that?" The elder woman suggested weakly, still not able to accept the idea of what Belarus was imposing on her.

Natalya gave her a withering glare, such stubbornness from her malcontent syestra. "Beside the point, that fox, if it was your fox...would the others be surging forward to claim it?"

She inclined her head subtly to the side at a nation who passed, dark blue eyes acknowledging and elegant features composed. The nation, Katyusha realised upon closer inspection was Canada with his small white bear in arm and his pale hair as he sat down on the floor by the wall. He seemed lost in thoughts, a withdrawn expression enclosing musings behind gentle mauve-blue eyes. Katyusha watched over her shoulder as Hong Kong walked up to Canada and join him on the floor, having a quiet tête-à-tête.

"Matvey?" The name leaked from her lips before she could stop herself.

"Yes, him and Hong Kong. They surely would remember the fox, do they not?" Natalya deadpanned, folding her arms together.

Ukraine bit her lip feeling a hope flare in her chest. "Maybe we should go over and ask them!" She looked between Belarus and Russia, who was either brooding, ignoring them or feigning disinterest.

"Should we?" she repeated, her teeth gnashing her bottom lip. Wringing her hands together, she preened when they both gave a nod. Natalya seemed begrudgingly soft to make her syestra reassured whilst Russia opened his eyes and chuckled darkly at his syestra's light jump with strained childish excitement, even in such a sombre situation.

"Da, I guess we should ask them." Russia hummed, sharp mauve eyes gained a predator-like glint as they were trained on the two nations. Naturally, Katyusha shifted to the side after her little outburst, letting him gaze past her, it was never good be the one the gaze was directed at.

Belarus pushed herself off the wall in one graceful movement, her dark eyes analytic as she muttered to Ivan, "Shall we go? Your unnerving gaze is bound to scare them away."

The tall Russian straightened up, walking calmly past Natalya without waiting for his sisters. The platinum-haired woman glared at the back of his head, stalking after him with her boots silently treading the floor. Katyusha hurried after her younger siblings, hand reaching out to grasp Natalya's cold hand and squeezed it, out of reassurance for herself more or less. Natalya's unmarred yet rough hand tightened around her own, Katyusha felt slightly calmed and even a little happy when her heart fluttered with anxiety. If this was before, the Belarusian would surely wrench her hand from her grip and she was please that Natalya did not.

They came to a stop when Ivan stood in front of the pair, seeming to greet them in his usual childish manner. "Matvey, Hong Kong." He smiled lightly down at them, then taking a step back when Canada rose to his feet with Hong Kong in tow.

"Hi. Ivan," greeted Canada, his small bear in his arm groaned at the shifting motion. "Katyusha, Belarus." He acknowledged kindly, his bluish-purple eyes glimmering behind his glasses while Hong Kong nodded to the Slavic siblings.

"Matvey, Leon!" Ukraine beamed at them, she wanted to hug them both but the restraining hand of Natalya made her refrain from doing so.

...

"You are here to talk about Tiriganiaq," Loung stated dourly and the only genial of the three siblings nodded.

Matthew sighed, letting go of Jia Loung's arm. "I expected that, eh, but so openly?"

He glanced around for prying eyes and listening ears, there was his dysfunctional family in the other end, not seeming to notice their interactions. Other than that, there were almost no other nations around except for a lingering few.

Bemusing, Russia's smile widened. "Come," he said, motioning for them to follow. Belarus and Ukraine shared a look before walking after him, Katyusha using her free hand to interlock with Matthew's, bringing him along. It was easy to follow the northern nation, for the sea of nations parted for Russia with his intimidating quality and his just-as-intimidating sister, Belarus.

It was like that when Germany carried Prussia through the halls, nations stepping to the side and watched, whispering quiet assumptions to each other. Matthew and Katyusha flushed at the inquisition of the nations; mentally, Matthew thanked every god in existence for Alfred being too dense to notice anything...yet. Jia Loung deadpanned as he passed his family, Yao and Yong Soo calling his name behind him, demanding where he was going. He forbearingly ignored then, his small stature following the lanky and thin Matthew through the corridor, disappearing from his rather loud family.

"Wahh! Kaoru! Where are you going with Mattie and Russia?!" South Korea wailed, being restrained by China to prevent him from taking off after them.

His jarring voice, rather unfortunately, alerted a certain heroic, obnoxious, North American nation. America curiously whirled around from his argument with England, sky blue eyes flashing at the mention of his often forgotten, but who still is his brother and the mentally labelled 'commie', Russia, in one sentence. And it wasn't about hockey or snow. He stormed over to their end of the hall, England tailing as he tried to stop the nation from causing a scene as he was obstinately to do.

"Alfred! Stop this right now!" The shorter Englishman snapped, his right hand on America's shoulder trying to make him slow down to a halt.

The blonde flung the hand off his shoulder, pausing briefly and turned to his former caretaker. "No! I can't let Mattie be converted into communism by that commie!" He growled before resuming his brisk pace, spotting the lean frame of his twin down the hall.

"Alfred!" England quickened his steps to match America's, side by side. "The USSR has been dissolved, plus, I highly doubt that Matthew would be one to become a communist. Besides, Matthew can certainly handle Russia by himself, I'm sure the lad is going to be fine."

America seemed to not heed or hear the Englishman's words and immediately grabbed South Korea as he neared him, dragging the teenage nation along with him. "Yong Soo! Are you sure that Mattie was going somewhere with that bastard!?" demanded the bespectacled blonde.

"Yes!" The Korean responded, nodding. "Kaoru went with him and there was also Russia's sisters!"

Growling, America released Korea's arm, letting him run beside him. "They must be heading to one of the lounges!" With a violent burst of speed, he narrowly missed a wall as he swerved around Norway and Denmark, the younger nation behind him copying his action more easily whereas England was lost behind them.

"Kaoru! Mattie!" Yong Soo yelled, spotting the retreating backs of the two nations.

Canada glanced back over Hong Kong's head, hearing the pounding footsteps of his brother and his friend, South Korea. "Merde," he mumbled, tightening his arm around Kumahero and the other reaching behind him, holding his hand out for Hong.

Loung grabbed onto it willingly, his smaller taut hand in the larger and clammy one as the blonde pulled along to their quick stride. He spotted Matthew grinning mischievously despite knowing the blonde was nervous about the approaching duo. They were walking in a rather hastily, almost in a jog with Belarus casually strolling as if this was her average walk or saunter, Ukraine struggling to stay with her younger sister. Russia was only a flick of the tails of his trench coat and the ends of his pale pink scarf, whipping behind him as he made a sharp turn.

"B-Belarus! Maybe we should run, 'merica and Yong Soo are catching up!" Matthew called to the platinum-haired Belarusian.

She responded by breaking into a loping sprint, layered white and blue skirts flying around her knees and black boots. Katyusha was jerked forward by the sudden movement, but Natalya's grip was tight on her hand, hauling her syestra with her. The elder blonde found her footing and jogged alongside the younger woman. Matthew gave a peal of quiet laughter and took off, his long legs draw him back behind the two Slavic sisters.

Jia Loung had a deadpan on his face the whole time, though his eyebrow twitched, pushing himself to match his brother and friend's long strides. His short legs were not adapted to such fleeting sprints, akin to skittish deer in the forests but rather more suited for slinking away in the middle of the night on squeaky stairs and floorboards. Like a cat, he thought, yes, much like a cat.

"Mattie! Kaoru! Why are you running away!" Was the caterwauling voice of his elder brother, his brow twitched again. _He sounds like he's dying._

"This way!" Belarus barked over her shoulder, careening to avoid smacking her syestra into the corner of a wall and down the same turn that Russia had done earlier.

Matthew complied, making sure that Loung was with him and making a wide arc around the corner. Jia Loung felt his legs give a cry of protest, exhaustion sinking into his muscles. His breathing was laboured; he had not run this much in decades. Looking at Matthew, who seemed to be having some fun running away from his brother, was not looking tired one bit.

Ahead, there was a doorway that lead to a stairwell and Russia was nowhere in sight and the hall was emptied, filled only with the echoing footsteps of them and those of their pursuers. Belarus ran ahead, graceful like a sprinting cat and pushed open the door with her free hand; Katyusha lingering slightly as she passed it, trying to keep it open longer for Matthew and Loung.

The blonde male burst through the half-closing door, nearly crashing into the stair as the momentum of his wild movement sent Jia Loung sprawling forward, tripping him. Thankfully, Matthew caught them both and started climbing the stairs, the two women almost a full flight ahead of them. They both climbed two steps at a time, Loung sighing as Matthew panted for breath, fighting the crazy smile that threatened to overtake his pale features.

As they reached the second flight of stairs, Katyusha and Natalya slowing their pace slightly for them, they heard a loud bang of the door slamming back at a brutish force. There was the terrible dying, whining yowl of Yong Soo, "Mattie! KAORU! MATTIE!" Following that was America's "MATTIE! COME BACK! WHY ARE YOU RUNNING FROM THE HERO?! RUSSIA, YOU COMMIE BASTARD, I'LL KILL YOU!"

Belarus suddenly resumed her brusque pace with Ukraine tagging along by the connection of their intertwined fingers, Matthew gave an uncontrolled laugh and Jia Loung smacked his arm to pick up the pace. And. To. Stop. Laughing. The words were imprinted in his dark tawny eyes in the form of a disdainful glare. "Alright, alright," Canada panted, a wild grin in place of his earlier placid smile. He tensed as the thumping of their stalkers' footsteps became louder and distinct, Matthew sensed it as his clammy hand intertwined Hong's fingers for better grip, towing him away from America and Yong Soo if they caught up to them.

Matthew could hear the pants of their pursuers, mentally cursing himself for cursing his invisibility...it was there when he wanted attention but could not save him when he truly needed to be bloody invisible.

"Mattie!" Alfred's voice was so close, almost behind him. Oh dieu, he felt his legs beginning to numb but forced them up the stairs, two at a time, just as he did at home. He started feeling like he was running on clouds, the only feeling he really got was the harsh rasping of his throat, the cold and firm grasp of Jia Loung's hand and the flighty, giddy effervescence that bubble in his chest that force him to carry on with a tinge of fear of being caught among the giddiness.

Abruptly, Hong Kong surged forward with a sudden swiftness to that so he was level to Matthew, so the tall blonde did not have to heave the shorter island nation forward. "We can do this!" he gasped, feeling the need to encourage himself and Matthew because he was sure that he was about to collapse. Honestly, these flights of stairs were long and they were suddenly on the third flight, Belarus and Ukraine were past the second floor and on another set to the third floor.

"The third floor!" Matthew rasped to him. Cloud-walking was rather difficult, the mauve-eyed blonde thought restlessly.

Jia Loung could only hum in response to save his breath, it was quite obvious now. The European lounges and hostel-like rooms were mostly located on the third floor, some flooding to the second, where the Asian nations rested. He inhaled sharply, air hitching in his throat when he felt something brush against his leg. Whirling his head back, he saw Yong Soo almost falling forward on the steps behind them, arms outstretched in his usual touch-feely manner but this time to grab onto his clothing or a limb.

"Kaoru!" He cried like a child, stumbling on a step but still climbed up the stairs.

The grip on his hand was slipping slightly, Matthew's hand was becoming clammier but their fingers were hooked onto each other. "We better make this!" The Canadian puffed, springing forward with endeavour. They ran to the stairhead, Matthew panted to Loung, "Through here!"

They slammed the door open, running down the hall. America and Korea lost at the stairs, Matthew giggled madly though he was out of breath. Loung spotted the hall forking straight, left and right ahead and pulled on Matthew's arm, hissing, "Quick!" He lead Matthew to the first door on the left turn before the branching hallways, expertly whipping out a set of keys from the long, wide sleeves of his duangua. They released hands for the shorter teenage male to search through the keys.

"What room is this?" He muttered, some impatience seeping through to his normally stoic tone.

The blonde's eyes darted to the door number, "It's 213."

Hong quickly ran through the keys and hurriedly stabbed it into the lock, unlocking it quickly. Follow that they heard a sound of the thud of the door crashing open of the haste of America and South Korea. He snatched Matthew, pulling him in and swinging the door with such a force but expertly shutting it silently and bolted the door shut.

Breathing shallowly, Matthew when to the bathroom and placed a shaky calming hand on Kuma's head, who had woken up and wisely decided to keep his jowls shut. Hong Kong decided to join him, closing the bathroom door with a small crack and crouched down by the tub, where his brother was standing in the bathtub, holding Kumajirou to his chest and buried his face into the snowy pelt. His shoulders trembling slightly as he tried to breathe normally or muffle his crazed giggles of adrenaline and butterflies.

Jia Loung inched from the bathroom to the bed, leaning against the side and dark eyes trained to the door in front of the bed. He did not understand why he was running away from them, it honestly and rationally felt absurd because there was no real harm in letting them catch them. However, since the matter regarded the fox, it was on a different scale of significance. He kept a keen ear to the door, hearing the thumping of the pursuing duo down the hall. There were some subdued speaking; he did not think that they would lower their voices, considering their brash and boisterous natures but moreover that the walls were thick, which he was quite thankful for.

"Check the doors! Maybe they're in a room!" Was the bark from America, it sounded close. They must be at the intersection, Hong thought edgily and his right hand surreptitiously went up the left sleeve of his burgundy duangua, fingering the fuse of a firecracker that was strapped to his forearm.

Footsteps walked closer, closer and Jia Loung held his breath with his fingers pinching the fuse. The doorknob shook as they tried to open the door rather roughly that he feared that it might fail and the door would break down.

"It's locked." America's bland tone reverberated through the wood of the door. Matthew silently sunk next to Loung by the side of the bed, Kumajirou mutely clinging onto his arm.

The two brothers looked at each other, dark tawny meeting levelly with cornflower. 'Let's hope they don't break the door down.' Matthew mouthed, breaking his gaze and it darted to the door.

"Let's check another one." Came Yong Soo's tired tone and there was sounds of shuffling to another door to harass.

Canada rose to feet, the floor was carpeted and therefore muted their footsteps within the room. Hong's arm snapped out, holding it in front of Matthew's shins from his crouch to prevent him from moving. Shaking his head, dark brown hair flying slightly around his face. The gentle blonde blinked, nodding and eased down, sitting cross-legged on the carpet and stroked Kumafuji's white fur to pacify the somnolent bear. After a few minutes, he checked his watch and poked Loung, showing him the time.

The island nodded at the time, rose to his feet, Matthew sighing inaudibly and got up too. Loung herded to the back of the room, at the head of the bed and gestured Matthew to lower his head to his height. The blonde smiled exasperatedly and kindly lowered his head, bending his knees slightly.

"Alright. Here is the escape strategy," Loung said in a hushed tone with his complete poker face in place. "We will cautiously approach the door, open it unobtrusively and verify that those two loud blockheads are not in the vicinity. Then, we will proceed go through the door and close it quietly, make a beeline to the stairs via the door that we had entered earlier. Affirmative?"

Matthew nodded obediently, a ghost of a soft grin lingered on his chapped lips. Loung was explaining this as if they were in war and he was going over a battle strategy with his men, aka him and the dozing Kumafiji. It was would be so comical if this was a different situation if not for the dire consequences of laughing at Jia Loung and if their personal stalkers were around to hear and find their location.

"Once we are clear of the second floor, we will sprint up the stairs as beforehand. We will have to search for the lounge that the Slavic siblings are located in or perhaps one of them will be posted up for us and if we have to, hide in a room, I have the keys to every room," he added as an afterthought, Matthew thinking back to the large set of key that Loung had produced out of his sleeve.

"Either way, if those morons are to discover us from the second floor, we will hide back in this room or rendezvous on the ground floor and mingle with the nations there. Do not let them catch you." The smaller representative narrowed his eyes at Matthew as if daring him to get himself caught.

"I repeat, do not let them catch you and if you do get caught...I will not forgive you." Tawny eyes sharpened and resumed their emotionless gaze. "Also, ensure it is Yong Soo, who is the one to catch you because it is easier to convince him to our side and then ditch him when his guard is lowered." The teenager seemed to pause think for a reconsideration. "Or perhaps, if you want to go on the offensive, _I_ can use my firecrackers and clear the way for an escape route. It is easier and will be quite...fun...Comprehend, Williams?"

Humoured, Matthew raised his arm in a salute. "Yes, sir!" He whispered, his features threatened to change his mock solemn face with that maddening flighty grin again.

The lanky blonde slunk to the door, Loung following him with a skilled, refined grace that he had attained in his years under England's rule. Jia Loung placed himself by the hinges of the door whereas Matthew by where it would open, the small teenager leaned forward and expertly unbolted the door with little sound. The elder tensed as Jia Loung grasped the doorknob steadily and slowly turned the knob, the mechanisms of the lock making a soft click of resistance.

He opened the door, the hinges making a faint but sharp cracking noise. "Dammit," he grumbled under his breath at the forsaken sound as Matthew poked his head out as a sentry. The Canadian slipped out, mindful of squeaking floorboards and just as he looked right and left, he accidentally stepped on one mentioned squeaky board. His head twisted around, fearful for charging footsteps but nothing happened and he sighed, turning around, avoiding the general area of the floorboard. Matthew beckoned Jia Loung over, who again, closed the door almost inaudibly and they took to the halls.

The journey was not as easy as the escape strategy was dictated, numerous times, they had waited with a baited breath when one of them stepped on a moaning floorboard and were neurotically paranoid of any other sounds that echoed through the seemingly empty floor. They were almost at the door to the stairs when a voice yelled.

"Matthew, Leon!"

The voice was male, had a particular British lilt to it and belonged to one, United Kingdom of Great Britain and Northern Ireland or rather simply known as England and their father. The man was at the intersection of the halls, his emerald eyes were slightly shocked to find them here and the other two were no where to be seen. Regrettably, their pursuers appeared from opposite branching halls at the intersection from the sound of England's inquiry, but by then they had already linked hands and by now through the doors.

"Oh, merde!" Matthew groaned as the poor stairhead door slammed open again. Without looking back, they rushed up the steps with their tired legs, it wasn't cloud-walking anymore...it was a bumpy and tiring run for their dignity and just overall evasion of their annoying brothers. Again, they were climbing two steps at a time when something caught the back of his blazer and dragged him back, the grip on his hand loosened at the force of the pull, almost choking him.

"I've got you!" A very familiar, aggravating and blaring voice yelled by his ear but the quality of it was frustrated, unpromising and darkly incensed.


End file.
